Hopeless Vows (18 page)

Read Hopeless Vows Online

Authors: Rachael Duncan

BOOK: Hopeless Vows
12.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Dr. Patrick rests his elbows on his desk and folds his arms. “Why did you keep that from Jillian?”

He lets out a sigh. “I’m not sure. I could tell having Chloe around made her uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to add to it when there’s nothing going on now.”

“You were being chicken shit and protecting your own ass,” I seethe. His explanation does nothing to pacify me. If anything, it fuels me. I hold on to that like my life depends on it because it’s a much better feeling than hurt.

“You’re right. I was being a chicken shit, but this is all new right now.
We’re
new and I’m trying like hell to not mess it up. We have such a limited amount of time together before we have to make a decision, and I don’t want to spend it fighting over stuff that doesn’t matter.”

Facing him again, I say, “But don’t you see? It matters to me. She clearly has feelings for you and I was completely blindsided by her. I couldn’t even respond and just stood there with my mouth hanging open while she went into how my husband liked banging her. It was humiliating.” Just replaying the way she talked about Austin in my head makes my stomach turn.

“I’m sorry. If I could—”

“How long ago?” I ask, cutting him off.

“How long ago what?”

“When did you sleep with her?”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Do we really have to do this?”

A sick feeling hits me. If he’s avoiding it, it must not be an answer I want to hear. “Yes.”

“Why? It was before you and doesn’t matter.”

“Because I need to know. You can at least give me that since you lied about everything else.” His eyes narrow at my dig, but I don’t care. He deserves a lot worse.

“I had sex with her a month before I went on this show.” His eyes are downcast, refusing to meet mine. I do the same, not wanting him to see the emotions I know are written all over my face should he glance up. I’m not sure why hearing him say this pains me so badly. It shouldn’t given that I’m leaving him in three weeks, but it does. It fucking stings.

When I don’t say anything in response, Dr. Patrick steps in. “Jillian, are you more hurt by the lie, or the act?”

I give it some thought, and I’m really not sure. I absolutely hate the thought of Austin touching Chloe in any form, and knowing he’s been intimate with her in ways we haven’t is eating away at me. At the same time, he withheld this intentionally. He was purposely misleading, and that’s upsetting too. Ironic, isn’t it? Since I’m doing the same thing. The difference is he’ll never have to know about my lie since I’ll be long gone and will have spared him the pain.

I should say the lie since that could be a deal breaker for me and give me an easy out of this relationship. Instead, I go with honesty. “Both.”

“Why?” he pries some more.

“I’m disgusted he’s had sex with Chloe. It actually makes my skin crawl. Knowing she’s been around a few times since we got married and I had no idea only makes it worse. Hell, she’s the one who found us our apartment! But his lie made me look like a fool.” I shake my head slightly. “You should have seen the smirk on her face. She knew I had no idea and was loving it.”

“Putting the lie to the side momentarily, can you reason with the fact this happened before he met you, and maybe shouldn’t be held against him?” I resist the urge to glare at the doctor. This is why I was dreading this visit. I realize that who he slept with before me shouldn’t matter and I’m making a bigger deal about it than I should.

I shrug. “If the roles were reversed, and I was still friendly with an ex-lover, do you think Austin would be okay with it?” I ask Dr. Patrick. “No, but Chloe is still very much in his life and it’s inappropriate. Also, I guess I’m a little jealous they share something we don’t.”

“No.” Austin’s one word is so low, so rough, it sounds more like a growl. “Don’t do that. Chloe and I shared one drunken night I don’t remember much of. You and I have so much more than that. Don’t downplay us because you’re pissed I lied. You and I both know Chloe can’t even compete with you.”

My face is on fire, feeling the holes he’s burning into the side of my head with his fierce stare. Against my better judgment, I chance a look and wish I hadn’t. His tattooed forearm is placed on the armrest, baring his weight as he leans toward me, but it’s his expression that does me in. He’s deathly serious, slightly irritated even. As if comparing myself to Chloe angers him. His chin is tilted down as he looks up at me through narrowed eyes. His mouth is tight and his jaw is clenched. This bothers him. As our gazes remain locked, I see the sincerity pouring from him through the hostility.

I want to hold on to my anger. I want it to wrap me in a cocoon where I’m safe from him, safe from myself. Despite my desire to hold this against him, I also want to cave. His warm eyes soften and draw me in. Call me stupid, but I believe what he says to me.

“I’m sorry I lied to you about this. I just want us to move on from it and not let someone so insignificant disrupt our lives and our future.” His hard demeanor changes from intimidating to gentle. I nod my head, letting him know I heard everything he said. I’m not sure how to process all of it just yet.

“Nothing but honesty from here on out, okay?” He reaches over and grabs my hand, his touch comforting and calming.

“Okay,” I reply with my fingers crossed at my side.

Austin

THE DAYS ARE
flying by and all I want to do is slow them the hell down. We only have two weeks left of this experiment and I don’t want to sound like a pussy, but I’m scared shitless. I’ve invested all I have into this and it’s so hard for me to get a good read on Jillian. She’s so hot and cold. Some days I see it. She’s in this with me and feeling everything I’m feeling. Other days, she seems distant, like she’s afraid to let me in. I’m still trying to figure out why. At this point, my worst nightmare is she’ll want to leave me when this is over. I might have only known her for six weeks, but I just know she’s it for me.

The past week has been challenging to say the least. After our therapy session, things were tense. I understand why she’s upset, but it became very clear I’d have to show her with actions and not words that I was sincere in everything I said. Unfortunately, that takes time, and time is not on our side right now.

When she walked into the therapist’s office, I knew something was off, but I never would’ve guessed Chloe had said that to her. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but after the shock settled, pure fury took over. That fucking bitch. The only reason I haven’t called her is because I promised Jillian I wouldn’t contact her again. And I won’t. If it makes her uncomfortable, then I’ll do whatever it takes to put her at ease.

Despite my best efforts, her mood hasn’t lightened much. She goes out of her way to nitpick at everything. I can’t do anything right, and she walks around with a scowl on her face.

“Austin, why are your shoes in the middle of the floor?”

“Austin, start turning off the lights when you walk out of the room.”

“Is it really that hard to put your clothes in the basket?”

“Do you have to have the TV up so loud?”

“Start putting your dishes in the dishwasher. I’m not your mother.”

Each comment comes with a lot of sighing and eye rolling. I’ll admit I’m a little messy, but I’ve been a bachelor for all of my adult life. None of it used to bother her though. I was tempted to ask her if it was that time of the month, but I value my life too much to go there. Plus, I know this has to do with Chloe’s perfectly timed confession. It’s like a switch flipped and she just shut down. Any attempt I make to start conversation is met with one-word answers, and nice gestures go unnoticed. Hell, at some point I think even the camera crew felt bad for me. I get it, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have tried to spare her feelings by keeping this from her. Whatever trust we had built disappeared the moment I omitted the truth. But if there’s any hope of us moving forward with our relationship and making it work, we have to get past this.

It’s Monday and I’m sure Jillian is expecting flowers to be on her desk, but not today. Today, I have something else in mind. After I work for a few hours, I put on a button-down shirt, roll up the sleeves, throw on some slacks, and spend the rest of the afternoon preparing for this evening.

A little before five o’clock, I park my car along the curb outside of her office and wait. The fall air is crisp, reminding me I need to get in a few more rides on Harley before winter arrives. I lean back against the side of the car and cross one ankle over the other. One hand rests inside my pocket while the other clutches a bouquet.

A few minutes later, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on walks through the door. She doesn’t notice me at first, giving me the opportunity to watch her. She literally takes my breath away each time I see her, whether it’s when we first wake up in the morning, or she’s all dolled up for an event. There’s never a time where she doesn’t look fucking amazing.

Her head turns in my direction and our eyes lock, her wide, blue ones to my brown. It’s obvious she’s surprised to see me here, and I’m glad. I want her off balance. Maybe that’ll help me get through to her and get us back to where we were.

“Hey,” I greet her with a smile when she approaches me. Leaning in, I give her a tender kiss on the lips. Her sweet, vanilla smell envelopes me, making me want to bury my face in her neck. “These are for you.” I pull away from her and hand her the bouquet of white tulips.

“Thought you were slacking this morning,” she jokes as she pulls the card out, reading three simple words.

Forgive me, gorgeous.

“I already have, Austin,” she says in a tired voice.

“You haven’t, but that’s okay. We’ll work through it.” My arm wraps around her waist and pulls her to me. Her breath hitches when her chest hits mine. “Let’s get out of here,” I say quietly. Her only response is a nod.

After helping her into the car, I walk around to my side and slide in before putting the car in gear and pulling out into traffic. The ride to our destination is quiet. It’s not as tense as it has been, but quiet all the same.

“Where are we going?” Jillian asks after a little while.

“We’re on our way to have some fun.”

“What kind of fun?” Her tone is skeptical and I’m a little nervous she won’t want to do this, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“The old school kind.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“Nope. Just trust me.” I reach over and grab her hand that’s resting in her lap over her flowers. Bringing it up to my mouth, I kiss the back of her palm before placing them on the armrest. She doesn’t say anything the rest of the way there, and I don’t let go.

“Putt putt?” she asks once I park.

“Sure, why not? Plus, isn’t that what normal people do when they date?”

“Are you saying we’re normal?”

“Never,” I reply with a wink.

“I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but we kinda passed the dating phase.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I plan to date you for the rest of my life.” I stare into her eyes and see her walls coming down, the mortar holding them together starting to crack and crumble. But before they can fall, she looks away and breaks the contact.

She clears her throat. “One problem, these aren’t exactly made for golfing.” She raises one long leg to show off the fuck-me heels on her feet.
One day soon, I’ll have her in nothing but those heels as she wraps her long ass legs around me while I—
Shit. I shake my head, trying to focus on the issue at hand and not all the dirty things I want to do to her sinful body.

“I’ve gotcha covered.” Reaching behind her seat, I pull out a pair of flats I grabbed out of her side of the closet. If I wasn’t looking for it, I would have missed the small smile that graces her lips briefly.
That’s progress.
“Let’s go, gorgeous.”

Other books

The Art of Lying Down by Bernd Brunner
Forty Rooms by Olga Grushin
Sharpe's Regiment by Bernard Cornwell
American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Echoes by Laura K. Curtis
Year of the Witch by Charla Layne
Operation Eiffel Tower by Elen Caldecott